Seeing Red
by Accidental Paradox
Summary: Dilandau's life after the end of Escaflowne. Spoilers for Escaflowne the series.
1. Fear

Disclaimer (Applies to whole story) - I do not own Escaflowne or any of the characters. I make no money from writing this and I'm broke so suing me would be a waste of your time. Thanks muchly.

This story contains **SPOILERS **for Escaflowne (The series) If you do not want to have the ending ruined for you then please do not read this story.

Seeing Red

Chapter 1 - Fear

"Dilandau."

That's what they called him. It was his name, and he knew no other. He had guessed it wasn't a regular name, since it sounded foreign even to his young ears. It was probably because he was Special. They called him that too: The "Special Child." As far as he knew, he wasn't special at all. All he did was go to visit Them every week or so, and the rest of the time they had let him play in a room with some toys and books. Often Jajuka came to see him, and allowed him to practice fencing with a small sword. He liked Jajuka, but he wondered why the huge kindly soldier would bother to see him. When he asked Them about Jajuka, they just smiled and said that Jajuka looked after him because he was Special. It would have helped were it not for the fact that "special" was such a vague word!

After a while, he gave up thinking too much about it. There was plenty to do to pass the time, and he didn't like to dwell on things that worried him. If he worried he ended up asking questions, and They didn't like him asking questions. He was afraid of Them - The Sorcerers. That's what other people called Them sometimes. The little six year old boy had no idea what a Sorcerer was, but he knew his nightmares were worse after he went to see Them, even though he never remembered anything afterwards. The gaps in his memory were just some of the things he wished he could stop worrying about.

"Dilandau, wake up."

"I'm awake!"

The small boy opened his eyes and stared into the slightly blurred but recognisable face of Jajuka, his golden furry nose not six inches from Dilandau's own. He squinted and rubbed his eyes, annoyed at the lack of focus.

"Jajuka! What are you doing here!" He snapped grumpily, still partially in the dark with his thoughts.

"It's a big day for you, Dilandau. You are going to a new place."

Dilandau sat up violently.

"What?"

He was surprised. He had been staying in the same building for as long as he could remember, and though he knew he must have come from somewhere else, this seemed like the only place he ever knew - the few corridors and rooms he saw daily, the same servants and guards, and of course the Sorcerers who came to meet him. Although he was not usually scared of anything, anything unknown was inclined to make him feel nervous. His small hand instinctively reached out and grasped Jajuka's arm, twining in his thick fur.

"Why, Jajuka? Why can't I stay here?" His voice was pleading. He didn't want to be worried anymore.

Jajuka as always just smiled at him with infinite patience. He sat down on the bed beside Dilandau and pulled him into a hug.

"Dilandau, you have been here alone for too long."

"I'm not alone Jajuka - You've been with me!"

Dilandau's insistence and obvious surprise at his statement made Jajuka smile again. He spoke slowly and carefully, being careful to not show how he really felt. He felt he had failed Dilandau by leaving him like this, and taking him away from the only means of comfort he had; but he was helpless in the face of the Sorcerers orders, and they wanted him trained.

"You know that there are times when I can't be here, Dilandau. Then you will have to find others to support you, people to trust. Today you will meet other boys who also need people they can trust."

"I don't need anyone else! I just need you!" Dilandau clung fiercely to Jajuka, his grip surprisingly strong for such a young boy. Jajuka slowly but firmly removed his hands, and placed them in his own massive ones. They sat and looked at each other for a long time: Dilandau with sadness and resignation, Jajuka with regret. Finally he stood, and when Dilandau rose with him he picked him up and set him on the floor.

"Get dressed now, Dilandau. We will leave shortly."

He left the room without looking back, leaving Dilandau alone in the middle of the small room that had been his home for the past three months, though to him it was six years. He stood for one brief moment, thinking of memories just out of reach, and events yet to come. Then boyish excitement took over, and he went scrabbling for his clothes. He was thin - no matter how much they tried, he wouldn't eat enough to gain weight. They had eventually reasoned it was just his natural shape, and since he was obviously not lacking in strength they had stopped worrying about it. His pale skin and hair made the standard blue shirt and black trousers seem even darker than they should be. As an afterthought he tucked a dagger, a gift from the Sorcerers, into his boot. The blood-stone in the hilt matched the colour of his eyes, the silver blade, his hair. Now fully dressed, he strode out of the room with all the dignity he could muster. He wasn't going to let them know he was afraid!

Jajuka was waiting for him in the corridor. He nodded approval at Dilandau's choice of clothing - he looked good; powerful and assertive despite his age. His eyes wandered down and found the dagger, the red stone in the hilt just visible above the rim of Dilandau's right boot. Surprised, he raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything. Dilandau was grateful; he didn't want to explain that he felt he needed a weapon to make him less afraid.

"Let's go, it is this way."

He offered his hand, but Dilandau met his eyes and shook his head slightly but not unkindly, his eyes flickering towards the doors in an unspoken request. Jajuka understood - he wanted to seem independent. Gesturing an "After you" as one would to a King, Jajuka fell in step behind Dilandau as he walked towards the big double doors at the end of the long main corridor. Dilandau had never once seen what was beyond those doors, though he knew they were the exit to the building he lived in. Usually the guards stopped him and politely turned him back, today they opened the doors and waved him through, stopping only to sneer at Jajuka, who curled his upper lip in reply, showing his impressive teeth. There was no love lost between the guards and the regular soldiers.

Dilandau stared all around him as they walked through numerous passages and halls, the lavish wall hangings and decorations in some rooms contrasting with the obviously functional military posts and facilities. He had never seen so many people before - guards always marching by, servants running errands, and people he assumed to be either rich or important because of their flowing robes and serious faces. Many of them glanced at him, most with surprise and some with fear, to Dilandau's puzzlement. What was there to fear about him? He wasn't naive enough to assume it was because of his dagger - the guards in the corridor's were sporting several. Dropping back a few steps as they walked, he matched paces with Jajuka and tapped his arm to get his attention.

"Jajuka, why do they stare at me? Are they afraid?"

Jajuka knew he had to be careful in his answer. He couldn't possibly reveal the truth to Dilandau, but the boy was too clever to be satisfied with something unrealistic. He decided to opt for part of the truth, the nicest part if you will.

"It is because of your eyes and hair, Dilandau. They are an unusual colour, even here. Don't worry about those people, they will get used to it soon enough."

"I didn't know my eyes were an odd colour. What's a normal colour, If not red?"

Jajuka was inwardly relieved. Dilandau had become sidetracked already - from the fear to the colour of his eyes in about five seconds.

"_Just like any normal little boy…"_

He felt a pang of guilt. Why hadn't he stopped them? He knew of course that he had tried everything he could to stop them, and they had in turn beaten him unconscious. If he hadn't grovelled and scraped before his Commander, he would never have been allowed to look after Dilandau now.

"I don't suppose you have seen that many people's eyes, have you Dilandau? Most humans have blue, green or brown eyes. Beast People sometimes have golden eyes as well as human eye colours."

"Like yours, Jajuka?"

"Yes." Jajuka tilted his head so Dilandau could see his eyes. "They are the main colours. Any other colours are quite rare."

"So why are my eyes red then, Jajuka?"

"You are what is called an albino. It's where your hair and skin are very pale, and your eyes are red. It's just like saying someone else has brown hair and blue eyes really, but there are a lot fewer albino people around."

"Oh. Okay."

Dilandau shrugged and almost instantaneously found something else new and interesting to occupy his attention. Jajuka let him wander slightly ahead once more, his own steps slow and automatic as he became lost in thought.

They stopped at the end of a particularly fancy corridor. The doors here were huge and ornate, the deep purple panels outlined in silver and gold. Three guards flanked each side of the door, their faces grim and tense. Dilandau stared up at them nervously, and slowly moved closer to Jajuka. Jajuka kept his face a mask of calm, but he was just as nervous as Dilandau was. He had no way of knowing what was about to happen.

"I am Jajuka, Guardian and Mentor of Dilandau Albatou." he said formally, addressing the guard closest to him on his left, who wore the golden badge of Captain on his dark blue tunic. "He was to be brought here at this time to begin his training."

The guard Captain looked at him with disdain. It wasn't a soldier's job to look after children - In his opinion such a task was for women and men with no honour.

"Very well. They are expecting you." he said curtly, gesturing to the guards nearest the doors to open them.

Jajuka gave Dilandau a reassuring smile as the huge doors slowly moved apart.

"I am with you now, Dilandau."

Dilandau nodded, stubbornly keeping his eyes fixed on the doors. As the gap between them grew wider, the two figures walked closer, suddenly desperate to find out what waited for them. They almost squeezed through side by side, with barely inches to spare. The doors shut swiftly after them with a dull thud.

The room was by far the biggest Dilandau had ever seen. It seemed to be made entirely of a dark grey stone, with pillars around the edges supporting the weight of a balcony above. The walls to either side of him were almost completely hidden in the darkness beneath the balcony, but he could just make out tall shadowy figures stationed between the dim lamps. On the wall furthest from him, a huge luxurious tapestry hung, depicting the symbol of the Zaibach Empire. In front of this tapestry stood something out of his nightmares. A black-robed Sorcerer, one of Them; his cold eyes and aged appearance making him more like a living skeleton than a man. Dilandau recognised him as one of those who checked on him most often. He didn't like the almost hungry look in the Sorcerer's eyes, and involuntarily took a step back, bumping into Jajuka.

Jajuka placed a hand on Dilandau's shoulder to reassure him, then stepped to the side and executed a deep bow. This caused Dilandau to remember his manners and bow also, though he felt vulnerable and rose almost immediately. Jajuka however, remained on his knees. Dilandau was surprised. He hadn't expected a powerful soldier like Jajuka to be submissive to anyone. It was almost like Jajuka was as afraid of the Sorcerer as he was!

"My Lord, I have brought you Dilandau Albatou, as you commanded." Jajuka's voice was steady, rehearsed.

The Sorcerer in the centre of the room fixed Dilandau with a look that made his stomach churn. He cursed himself for feeling so terrified. Why did he hate this man so much? Why was he afraid of him? He was just a creepy old man! Even though he was trembling slightly, he matched the Sorcerers look, glaring at him through angry red eyes.

"You have done well, Jajuka. You are dismissed."

"Yes, my Lord."

Jajuka rose, bowed again and turned to leave. As he walked past Dilandau he mouthed "I will always protect you. You will never be alone, Dilandau." He got almost to the doors before Dilandau realised this might be the last time he saw Jajuka for a good while. He turned to watch him leave, but Jajuka didn't look back, and all too soon the doors shut behind him; leaving Dilandau alone in a room with the man he was afraid of most.

"Dilandau." The Sorcerers voice was sharp and commanding. Dilandau whirled around and glared at him again, torn between wanting to cry at Jajuka's departure and shout at the man who caused it.

"You are Special, Dilandau. Our greatest work. You will make a fine soldier."

"What are you talking about?"

Dilandau was getting agitated. He wanted Jajuka back! What did the Sorcerer mean, "greatest work?" He thought of all the times he had sparred with Jajuka. So they wanted him to fight. That's why a soldier had been allowed to look after him. But why him? What was it all for?

"We chose you, Dilandau. You will become one of the finest warriors in the Kingdom of Zaibach. With you we will finally achieve our goals!"

The Sorcerer's eyes were gleaming greedily now, and he started towards Dilandau. Terrified but not fully understanding why, Dilandau retreated and tripped, falling on his back. Before he could rise, the Sorcerer's face loomed over him, and he let out a scream of fear and rage, lunging forward and grabbing for the dagger in his boot. His hands closed over the cold silver hilt and he swept it upward in a vicious arc, straight for the Sorcerer's jaw. Before his blow could connect, his hand was seized in a deathly grip and another hand clamped round his throat, lifting him clean off the floor.

"We made you well, Dilandau. I see you will make a fine Captain."

The Sorcerer's voice was perfectly level, as if nothing had happened; but Dilandau saw the surprise and anger in his eyes and knew he was in serious trouble. He tried to struggle, but the hand only squeezed tighter and he began to cough, suddenly unable to breathe.

"You will obey us without question Dilandau, or you will suffer. A soldier has to do as they are commanded. Remember that! We made you what you are today: without us you are nothing!"

After what seemed like an age, the Sorcerer flung him roughly to the floor, and Dilandau lay there for several minutes on the cold stone, wheezing and gasping for breath. Finally he realised that the Sorcerer was still there, watching him, and got shakily to his feet, picking up the dagger that lay by his side. He thought the Sorcerer would take it from him, but instead he smiled smugly at Dilandau .

"You are strong, your fate has been altered in your favour."

Dilandau was about to ask what _that_ was supposed to mean, but the Sorcerer surprised him by shouting upwards, towards the balcony.

"Do you see? Insolence will not be tolerated in the Zaibach Army! Remember that, servants of the Empire!"

A loud chorus of voices erupted from above. To Dilandau's surprise they sounded very young:

"Yes, my Lord!"

"But look well on Dilandau Albatou! He fought me, even though he fears me. This is a leader you can be proud of!"

Dilandau was thoroughly confused. He looked at the Sorcerer for a clue, but got none. The man was smiling as he looked to the balcony, at people Dilandau couldn't see.

"Come down here before me!" He commanded.

"Yes, my Lord!"

The voices shouted again, the echoes bouncing eerily in the chamber. Dilandau heard the noise of many feet scraping stone, as the unseen watchers filed down the stairs. He turned around to see, and blinked in surprise as a row of children lined up silently behind him. They were all boys, and none could be much older than he was! Some looked like they could even be younger. All were dressed in the same clothes as he was, blue shirt, black trousers and boots; but none were armed.

Turning this way and that, he looked at the Sorcerer and the children in confusion. The Sorcerer was still smiling. The other boys were looking at him strangely too. He realised with a start that they were afraid of him! Looking at himself, he realised why. He was bruised and cut from where the Sorcerer threw him across the room, and he guessed he also had marks from where he had been grabbed. Plus in his hand he still held the dagger, and he remembered they would have seen him try to attack the Sorcerer. Scowling with a mixture of embarrassment and annoyance, he put the dagger back in his boot as confidently as he could, and was frustrated when the expressions on the boys did not change. One of them, a short boy with fair hair, was gulping and staring right at him, like a rabbit caught in a trap.

"What are you looking at?" He snapped, furious that his eyes were filling with tears and he was still sore and short of breath. He must look weak! The fair-haired boy visibly trembled and looked to the Sorcerer as if for help. The man said nothing, just inclined his head as if to give the boy permission to talk.

"Your e-eyes… they are… l-like a demons eyes." he stammered, and then looked at the floor. The other boys looked at each other and nodded agreement. They seemed to forget that the Sorcerer was there for a moment, as if their fair haired companions voice had been the key to break their silence. Dilandau stood there alone in the vast room, and caught snatches of murmurs from the boys in front of him.

"Did you see what he did?"

"He nearly cut his face clean off!"

"He' a devil! Just look at how pale he is - and those eyes!"

"I bet he kills people for the Sorcerers! He is made from magic!"

Dilandau once again looked at the Sorcerer, but he just smirked and said nothing. Dilandau instinctively felt for the dagger in his boot, his anger building. Never taking his eyes off the man, he drew the dagger slowly up to his side, his free hand unconsciously rubbing his bruised neck. The Sorcerer did nothing, just watched as Dilandau brandished his dagger and turned back to face the crowd of chattering boys. One of them called out:

"Hey, are you a demon or what?"

And Dilandau saw nothing but red. Before anyone knew what was happening his crimson eyes were staring just centimetres from a pair of blue terrified ones, and his dagger was at the boy's throat. He wiped his face, unknowingly smearing the blood, dust and sweat into a red mask down his cheek, and snarled into the face of a frightened and crying six year old.

"_Never_ call me a demon again! I am _not _a demon! I'm not! _Got it_!"

His hands were shaking with rage, and all of a sudden he was aware of the now deathly silence in the cavernous room.

"I-I'm sorry… I'm so sorry…"

The boy's voice was something between a choked sob and a whisper, but it carried far in the silence, bringing Dilandau out of his cloud of hate. It was as if he was seeing things clearly for the first time. Staggering back, he lowered the dagger and stared once more at the boys, who had moved quietly to comfort the one he had threatened. They looked at him again, but this time with respect as well as fear. Another spoke up.

"Yeah, we're sorry."

The others joined in, all apologising to him. The fair haired boy who had first said he had demon eyes said something briefly to the others and then walked forward until he was only a few feet from Dilandau. Then to Dilandau's surprise he knelt at his feet.

"My Lord told us that we would have a new Captain. My name is Gatti. It would be an honour if you would lead us." He looked up at the Sorcerer, as if just realising Dilandau might not be who he had meant." That is, if you are going to be our Captain. They said we needed one, so we could begin our training as a unit."

The Sorcerer nodded.

"Dilandau Albatou is your Captain. You will all be trained to be soldiers of Zaibach, and you will remember well the lessons you have learnt this day."

All the boys behind Gatti knelt too, and placed their left hands over their chests.

"We are loyal to Zaibach, now and forever!" They chanted.

The Sorcerer nodded.

"It is well. I am sure you will make us proud. Now, tell your Captain your names."

The boys looked as one into their battered Captain's ruby eyes.

"I'm Chesta."

"Dallet."

"Migel."

"Viole."

"Guimel, my Lord."

The list went on, until some fourteen boys besides Gatti had introduced themselves to Dilandau. As the last name died away, they all looked At Dilandau expectantly, as if he could do something with their names now that he knew them. Dilandau couldn't help it. He smiled, and walking quickly towards Gatti, grabbed him roughly by the arms and pulled him to his feet.

"Stand up!" He said, half-laughing, half frustrated with them. They looked so serious! In the shock he had forgotten a lot of what had just passed between them. The other boys hurriedly stood up and saluted.

"Yes, Sir!"

The Sorcerer then addressed Dilandau directly.

"Take good care of them, Dilandau. As their leader _you _are responsible for them."

"Yes, my Lord." he said softly. He didn't know what else to do.

Several minutes later, as Dilandau and the group of boys filed out of the room, forever after known as the Dragonslayers; the lone Sorcerer spoke into the silence once more.

"They will serve us well. Fate is on our side now. Dilandau is perfect for our plans."

Dark cloaked figures came into the light from the walls.

"He is a strong one. It will be work to keep him in line."

"What if he lapses?"

"He won't." The lead Sorcerer said. "He has a purpose and emotional grounding. He will die for us, and kill for us as we wish."

That night, the first night with his Dragonslayers, was in his memory one of the happiest of Dilandau's life. Having never been with boys his own age, it was fascinating and fun, and his status as their Captain did not bother him because in his short existence he hadn't known any different. He soon forgot about the pain of his injuries, and his fellow Slayers were too in awe of him to mention the blood and bruises that covered his pale face. They were amazed at his demonstrated skill with the sword and begged him to teach them, a promise he made gladly, proud to be seen as someone strong. Later they all went to their new quarters and he found a set of new clothes - a uniform, waiting for him, which he looked at for a long time. It was red, to match his dagger. He never knew about that night as he slept in his new room, when the faint sounds of the others in the rooms nearby were murmuring to him in his dreams, tears for Jajuka and a life he didn't remember stained his cheeks and deepened the red in his eyes.

-

The memories were so vivid they stayed with him even as he awoke. For a few seconds he was still a boy again, a six year old in Zaibach with the Dragonslayers. Then he remembered his Slayers were dead: murdered by Van Fanel. He sat up, startled, as memories rushed upon him like a wave - Van, Escaflowne, Allen, the battles between them - The deaths. But no memory could explain to him where he was, or what had happened to him. His life felt like it had just stopped all of a sudden.

"_Where am I? What the hell happened to me? What's going on!"_

He sat very still, thinking. The last thing he remembered, the last thing for certain, was fighting Van and Allen in his new Oreades. He had been winning too, he was sure of it! Jajuka had been there too, helping him -

"_Wait a minute- Jajuka?… But when he came to see me before the battle, I didn't even recognise him! Now I know he looked after me before I started my training. How come I didn't know who he was, and why didn't he mention it at the time? I should have known Jajuka! How did those memories just come back now? Why did I forget in the first place? AAGH! This is giving me a headache!"_

Frustrated, he swung his legs to the side and confirmed he was in a bed of some sort. It was fairly comfortable, but the floor was cold stone, and he was barefoot. Grimacing, he stood up and swore under his breath when his legs buckled. He grabbed onto the bedpost and tried to stop his limbs from shaking.

"_What the hell happened to me? Am I drugged?"_

"You really shouldn't try to get up. You've been asleep for several days. We were really worried about you, when you suddenly collapsed after the memorial service."

The sudden voice made him jump, and he looked up as a small light from a lamp flared near his face. His eyes narrowed in surprise and anger as he saw who had spoken.

"Allen Schezar!" he hissed.

"Celena, are you alright?"

-

Author Notes:

Yes, the title is lame. I'll probably change it later on.

Apologies for the cliff-hanger, but I'd go on forever if I didn't find an evil place to stop...

I haven't watched Escaflowne enough times to be considered an expert so be gentle with canon errors please, except when they are obviously used as a plot device in which case it's supposed to be like that.

Please Review - I respect and encourage opinion and constructive criticism.


	2. Twilight Life

**Seeing Red**

Chapter 2 - Twilight Life

Dilandau did a double-take as Allen's concerned face inched ever closer in the dark. He pushed himself tight against the wall, cursing his weakened state and bare hands. He felt so naked without his sword, and he knew he had no chance against Allen unarmed.

"Celena?"

Allen sounded puzzled but Dilandau himself didn't know what to do. He couldn't move any further away - his back was pressed into the cold stone wall and his hands gripped the bed post with knuckle-breaking intensity. To disguise his fear and buy some time, he decided to yell at Allen and try to intimidate him. He forced himself to stand up as straight as he could and concentrate on the man in front of him, though inside his thoughts were in turmoil, miles away.

"_Who is Celena? Haven't I heard him say that name before? Why isn't he afraid of me - he looks worried, not even angry!"_

"You'd better have a good explanation for this, Allen Schezar. Quickly, before I kill you and go to find the answers for myself!"

Whatever reaction he expected, it was nothing like the one he got. Allen's eyes widened in shock, and they didn't even register the crash of the lamp as it fell to the floor. The flames pooled around their feet as he took a step back, his hands still trembling.

"Who - Who are you?" he asked now, his voice ragged and full of emotion.

"What are you talking about? You know who I am, you fool! I am Dilandau Albatou, Captain of the Zaibach Dragonslayers; and if you don't release me and take me to my Oreades right now I'll make you wish you were dead long before I finally take your last breath!" he snarled.

For all his bravado, Dilandau was still confused. However, it seemed that Allen had managed to get ahead of him in that department. He had drawn his sword, but it lay loose at his side as if he was afraid to use it, and the blade quivered and flashed in the dim light.

"Dilandau, where is Celena? What have you done with her!"

Now Allen sounded angry, and panicked. Dilandau was still shaking himself, though he wasn't quite sure why. He didn't know anyone called Celena, but for some reason the name was familiar. Just what was going on? He was determined to find out.

"I haven't the faintest idea of what you are talking about, Allen Schezar." he said, his voice full of contempt. "All I know is I was in the middle of slaughtering your pathetic army, and then suddenly I find myself here. What a coincidence! I think you will scream for me as I kill you." He smiled nastily, and Allen felt a shiver run down his back.

"First though, tell me what you're babbling about. Who is Celena? A new lover of yours? You do have such a reputation…" Dilandau's smirk turned into a sneer, and he began to forget that he was at a physical disadvantage.

Allen had been staring at the floor for the most part, his fingers tightly wrapped about his sword hilt. Now he looked directly at Dilandau, and his face expressed utter bewilderment.

"You really have no idea, do you?"

"If I knew, I wouldn't bother asking. And I certainly wouldn't ask an idiot like you unless there was no one else around. I'm not even sure what you expect to gain from all this. If you expect me to give away Zaibach secrets, you can go to hell! Without your precious Plaktu you have no chance of breaking _me_. I'd rather die than give you the satisfaction! In any case Allen, you seem to have gone mad yourself. I don't know anyone named Celena. Did too many guymelef fights damage your little mind?"

He laughed in Allen's face, more out of anger and desperation than humour. This was ridiculous! He was acting like an immature kid! What was even worse, his legs were giving way again. Dilandau swore, and tried to pull himself back up but it was no use. He sank back onto the bed, his eyes filled with shame and rage.

"But… you still look…" Allen trailed off. His eyes wandering over Dilandau in a way that made him decidedly uncomfortable. He squirmed and tried to turn away.

"I look like what? What the hell is your problem? Either kill me, or get me a sword so I can kill _you_! I don't care what drugs you gave me, I will see you die today!"

"We didn't drug you. You - Celena collapsed after the memorial service. You've been asleep here ever since."

"I'm not going to ask again, Allen Schezar, Who is Celena, and what the hell is going on here?"

Dilandau was afraid now, but his voice was soft and dangerous. His hands twisted painfully in the sheets of the bed and cut off the blood supply to his hands. He welcomed the sensation.

"Celena is…my sister." Allen whispered, his eyes never leaving Dilandau's, confused and searching.

"What?"

Of all the answers he had been expecting, that wasn't one of them. Dilandau was even more surprised by how the pronouncement affected him. He didn't even _like_ Allen, why would he care about his sister? Yet no matter how he insisted he didn't care, something about it struck a chord in him, and he found himself asking:

"Where is she?"

Allen looked a bit taken aback. He hadn't been expecting a reaction like that, and was just as surprised as Dilandau himself by the question. He was also unsure of how to answer, seeming to start sentences many times, and trailing off without actually saying anything. Finally, Dilandau started getting impatient.

"I'm sick of your stammering, Allen Schezar." He sneeered. "I asked you what I thought was a simple enough question. However, it seems that once again your feeble brain is not up to the task. Now, are you going to give me an explanation for all this or not? For the last time, where is this sister of yours and what has she got to do with me? This had better be good!" his sudden unwanted sympathy had almost totally dissipated under the heat of his rage, and he noted the fact with more than a hint of satisfaction as he regarded Allen, who appeared to have found the opening he had been waiting for.

"My sister, Dilandau..." he said hoarsely. "My sister - Celena...is you."

"What?" said Dilandau for a second time. He wasn't sure he'd heard Allen correctly.

"You're Celena." Allen looked straight at him now. "Zaibach took you away from us when you were barely six years old. You didn't remember us - until last week when you finally changed back."

Dilandau couldn't belive what he was hearing. Him? Allen's _sister?_ The man was insane, no doubt about it. However something kept niggling at the back of his mind. More of a feeling than anything else, or perhaps a memory. He was sure it had something to do with Allen, and it was confusing the hell out of him. He didn't like it one bit.

"What the hell are you talking about?" he shouted, louder than he had intended. "You're crazy, that's what! Completely mad! Get me out of here right now!"

Allens face dissolved into an unsettling mixture of concern, sadness and fear - bringing with it another wave of alien emotions to hit at Dilandau's frayed nerves. He shook his head violently to try to clear his head, and lurched to his feet.

"I don't...care...what you think...Schezar!" he panted. "I'm leaving!" He took one shaky step forward.

"Wait." Allen calmly held out one gloved hand, but his tone was pleading. "Please, wait."

"Too late, Allen Schezar. I've had enough of your games!" he made to move towards the door once more.

"It's not a game! I swear it!" still blocking Dilandau's path, Allen looked around blindly in desperation. Finally his eyes lighted on something. "I can prove it to you! All of it!"

"Hmph. This had better be good." said Dilandau, now standing rather shakily in the middle of the room and hoping he looked a lot better than he felt.

"The mirror." Allen's eyes flickered to a point to his left, behind Dilandau. "Over there, by the table."

"What does a mirror have to do with anythi -"

"Please!" said Allen, his voice full of desperation. "Just look in the mirror!"

"Fine! I'll look in the stupid mirror, just quit your whining!" Dilandau glared at Allen. Honestly, the man never gave up! How long was he going to keep up this ridiculous story? He edged across the room towards the mirror, being careful to keep Allen at the edge of his vision in case he tried anything. Not that he would be a match for Allen in a fight, he thought bitterly. He still felt awful, his stomach churning and his joints aching. It was a struggle just to keep upright.

When he reached the mirror, at first he was afraid to stare at it directly. Partly because to do so would mean he had to take his attention away from Allen, but also because he was afraid of what he might see, and what proof of Allen's crazy statements might mean. He stood, teetering for a moment at the edge of sanity that he had balanced upon for so long, forcing himself to keep his emotions in check. Then he took a deep breath and turned to face the mirror.

He thought there was nothing wrong, at first. The light in the room from the broken lamp was already fading, and the rays streaming from beyond the door were sparse. He squnited at the image in front of him, then rubbed his eyes and tried again. The image in the mirror took slender hands away from blue eyes, and stared right back.

It was him, and yet it wasn't. He was thinner than he remembered, and clad in a white gown that trailed to his ankles. Though the facial features weren't all that different, the eyes in the mirror were as blue as a clear sky. They unnverved him by their brightness, and the fear they held.

My _fear...I'm terrified!_ he thought.

However as he looked closely, it was the overall picture that startled him most - not just because it was so alarmingly _familiar_ to him even as he couldn't say how, but there was no denying that the figure in the mirror was very obviously _female_, and the more he thought about it, (although he was too frozen in fear to look at his body) the more he thought the mirror may be telling the truth. His exhausted mind fought to process the information, but he could find nothing in his mind, no reason, memory or logic for what was happening to him. Finally, a small moan broke out of his dry mouth.

"No...no!" he choked out, trying to back away from the girl in the mirror even as she recoiled from him, her face white with terror.

Allen rushed forward in concern, as for the second time his sister crumpled to the floor, her blue eyes turning to white as she dreamed.

-------------------------------------------------------

"Allen, can I have your soldier?"

The small girl looked at him with carefully rehearsed pleading, her hands gesturing to the toy village that lay all around her.

"I want there to be a soldier," she went on "and he'll come to the town and fight, and protect the people there. That's what soldiers do, right?"

Allen smiled at his sister, opening his hand to show her the miniature samurai he held.

"Yes." he said solemnly. "A samurai protects people with his life. He uses his sword wisely in defence of others." It made him feel important, being able to teach Celena things. She was always in awe of him, and took in everything he said.

"Can I have him then?" she asked, picking up one of the other figures, a farmer with a bale of hay. "These people need someone to protect them, and I have no soldiers. If there's an attack, they'd die." she looked sad at the thought.

"Anyone who needs protection should get it." said Allen, feeling all important again, "So I'll give you my samurai." Celena's eyes lit up. "One one condition though." he smirked, and she glared at him, annoyed.

"What?" she said sulkily. She didn't like it when her brother tricked her.

"That you'll let me play with you. Let me be part of your town." he gestured grandly to it, making sure he sounded interested.

"Okay!"

She let out a cry of delight as he sat down beside her, and gently placed the toy samurai in her hands.

-------------------------------------------------------

All she knew now was pain. As hard as she tried, she couldn't escape the cold metal that bound her, or the needles and fire seeking her flesh. Her voice long since destroyed by screaming, she had withdrawn into herself, watching with dazed eyes, numb to the agony although her muscles twitched and juddered with each breath. It had been so sudden, that she had even lost her woolen cloak. They had shimmered into view out of the trees, and surrounded her. Before she could scream, one clapped a hand over her mouth, and another held her arms to her sides. Her thin fingers crushed, she had dropped her bunch of violets, and reached for them in vain. Then there was a glint of metal by her cheek, and she had felt herself fold into darkness.

When she woke, she was in a cell. They fed her, and a huge kindly soldier called Jajuka had promised to protect her. It had made her feel safe, trusting in Jakuka and his comforting words. Then they had come to take her away. Jajuka had fought for her, but he had been hurt badly. She remembered his face, full of worry for her and it made her want to cry - but she couldn't move or speak anymore. She could only feel the sharp instruments cutting her, and hear above the hum a gravelly voice muttering, always muttering.

"Destiny..."

-------------------------------------------------------

The brown-haired Dragonslayer's face visibly paled as his captain bore down upon him, eyes burning with fury. Beside him, his shorter companion gulped and uselessely fiddled with the belt of his uniform. They knew there would be no mercy. Dilandau never forgave an error, not even if they were made by his most trusted soldiers. _Especially_ if they were made by his trusted soldiers. In Dilandau's Dragonslayers, incompetence could get you killed. Rumour had it that you were more likely to be killed by your own superior than the enemy if you proved to be less than dependable.

"I had heard a rumour." Dilandau began, his voice sharp and clear, though he wasn't shouting. "Two of my Dragonslayers were sneaking into the city at night, after training." He gave them a withering look. "I had thought that this rumour was ridiculous. None of _MY_ 'Slayers would be stupid enough to do such a thing!" His voice was becoming louder with every word, and the two wide eyed boys could see the rage beginning to build. Subconsciously they moved closer together, shaking with fear. They had seen Dilandau's rages often enough to know they didn't want any of his anger directed at them.

"Tell me Dallet," Said Dilandau, grabbing the dark haired boy by the collar and yanking him close. "Why are you stupid enough to defy me?" When Dallet just began to shiver, and refused to answer, Dilandau threw him across the room, his face impacting painfully with the hard floor. A similar procedure was repeated until the shorter boy joined Dallet on the floor, all thoughts of disobedience forever squashed under the force of Dilandau's relentless kicks and blows.

"I demand absoloute loyalty." he said calmly to them when it was over. "Disobey my orders again, and you will die."

Dallet and Gatti looked at each other as their Captain left the room, taking in their injuries. They knew he meant it.

-------------------------------------------------------

Allen watched in horror as Celena began to writhe and scream, her thin limbs impacting painfully on the furniture and floor of the room. He hadn't known what to do when Celena - No, Dilandau - had collapsed, and had only just knelt by her side when it became obvious that she was dreaming, her eyes rolled back but flickering from side to side under the lids. Then she had begun to scream, and he had no idea what to do. Her face was contorted in terror, blood staining her pale skin as she inadvertedley cut her lips and tongue. He tried to hold her still to stop her hurting herself, and then called again and again for help. No one answered him. They were in a secluded wing of the house, and the servants were unused to being needed during the night. He was on his own. Not liking to leave Celena by herself, not even sure if it _was _Celena before him, and liking the idea of Dilandau alone in his house even less, he made sure her legs and arms were secure, and sat to wait out the nightmare.

-------------------------------------------------------

It was just after dawn when she opened her eyes. The convulsions had ceased an hour earlier, but Allen hadn't moved from the room to fetch help. Instead he had carefully lifted her onto the bed, and then sat down clumsily on a nearby stool, his legs and arms cramping from being in one position for so long. He had spent the time rubbing the life back into his arms, and at first didn't notice when her eyes flicked open. Then she stirred slightly, and he was by her side in an instant.

"Celena!" He said urgently, though too afraid to talk above a low volume. "Celena! Please say something!"

"Ugggh..." her voice was cracked and hoarse from all the screaming, and she choked a few times before trying to sit up. Allen leaned forward in concern.

"You shouldn't try to move yet!" he began, moving to push her gently back down, but she knocked his arm away.

"Leave...alone!" She snapped, though it must have sounded a lot less fierce than she intended, for she glared at him as well, and made a deliberate show of pulling herself upright. Allen looked worriedly at her - she didn't seem quite herself. He shook off the thought almost as soon as it came.

"After what happened last night, no wonder she is out of sorts this morning..." he told himself. Still, the look in her eyes was troubling him.

"My head... ow..." she moaned, pressing at her temples with trembling fingers, her eyes closing in concentration.

"Where does it hurt?" Allen asked, wondering if he should go and get some ice. Any of his plans were shattered as Celena screamed again, and then began to melt in front of his eyes.

-------------------------------------------------------

He wished Allen would shut up for once, his head was killing him and there he was again, refusing to quit with the brotherly concern. Why did he always do that? Allen Schezar, always getting in the way of his plans, him and that Dragon. Always comforting him when he felt sad, always looking out for him - NO! His head hurt too much, and now he was getting himself all confused. How did he like and hate Allen at the same time? Allen Schezar had never been nice to him, had he? Or was it that Allen had never once said an unkind word to his sister? He didn't know anymore. All he knew was that the pain was getting worse. Then a fire in his limbs put paid to all conscious thought, and his mind melted away.

-------------------------------------------------------

Allen was terrified to touch his sister, so horrific was her pain. All her muscles were in spasm, and flesh was shifting under the skin before his eyes. She had thrown herself off of the bed, and now lurched about the room, holding herself as if her insides were on fire. He could only watch, as she seemed to grow, and her skin lightened until it seemed almost transparent. Her bones cracked and strained under the changing weight, and she continued to yell, but her voice though still muted from her nightmares was also different - harsher, deeper. Then, as soon as it had begun, everything stopped. His sister collapsed to the ground, but he no longer recognised Celena at all. Instead was a body he knew only too well, but thought he'd never see again. The boy Dilandau stirred at his feet, and without thinking he picked up his sword.

"Wha...Allen?" Dilandau moaned as he staggered to his feet, squinting at the taller man, his blurred vision still managing to pick out the glint of steel.

"Stay back, monster!" Allen yelled, holding the sword between the two as if Dilandau was a rabid animal.

"I'm unarmed, you dolt." Dilandau snapped, his eyes still half shut from the pain of the worst headache in his life. He wasn't in the mood for a fight at all.

"What the hell happened! What have you done with Celena!" Allen raged, abandoning all rational thought. "She was HERE with me just a few short days ago, and now you are back inside her and causing her pain! Where is she? Did you kill her?" the last sentence was almost a scream, and Dilandau stumbled backward under the force of his anger, still clutching his head.

"She's..._not_...dead!" he managed to gasp, before falling onto the bed and panting heavily, his eyes screwed up with pain and his chest heaving with exertion.

"What do you mean?" Demanded Allen, lowering his sword to his side. It wasn't the reply he had expected.

"You told _me _before, you idiot!" Dilandau snarled. "_I _am Celena!"

"You're not her. She's not a murderer like you!" Allen shook his head emphatically. "They damaged her mind, and put you in there to do their dirty work. She came back for a time, but you drove her away. You killed my sister!" The rage on his face was plain to see.

"NO!" Yelled Dilandau, his face contorted in anguish. "They took my memories away, and they gave me no choice!"

Allen stared. Dilandau's face was now wet with tears, and he was choking and coughing inbetween sobs.

"I remember EVERYTHING!" he cried. "You don't understand! I was never dead - they just made me forget you! I had to fight and kill people every day, and then when my mind couldn't take any more, it let me see what I had lost. I saw you Allen! And I remembered being taken away! Just now I found it all for the first time. You have to believe me!"

For a moment there was no noise, just Dilandau's quiet sobs and Allen's ragged breathing as both tried to come to terms with what had been said. Finally, Allen spoke.

"If you are really my sister," he began slowly. "What did I give her on her fourth birthday?"

Dilandau met Allen's eyes for the first time.

"A samurai soldier... standing like this." he got shakily to his feet and imitated the pose, as Allen watched in wonder. Dilandau's eyes were a familiar shade of bright blue, and though tear stained held his own without fear.

"I'm sorry, big brother..." he said, then sank to his knees as Allen embraced him, tears running down both of their faces.

-------------------------------------------------------

"You know that I can't stay here, Allen."

It was just two days after the siblings had been truly reunited. Allen was still trying to get used to the fact that his sister was not only sharing a body with a boy who had tried to kill him, but a mind as well and indeed much of the boys personality remained, though he could recongise his sister in almost every movement. Dilandau had asked with a weak grin that he keep his name, since didn't think he suited the name Celena at the moment. Allen had been forced to agree. The eyes notwithstanding, Dilandau was definetely the Zaibach soldier they had all loved to hate, although somewhat mellowed and thankfully a lot less insane. The problem was convincing everyone else of this fact. Already they had had to keep Dilandau under armed guard, for people's peace of mind as much as for his safety. Asturia still thought him a war criminal. Trutfully, after Allen had seen the reaction of the populace to Dilandau's reappearance, the boy's statement hadn't come as much of a surprise.

"You are always welcome here, Dilandau."

"I know _that_ you moron, but those people out there don't know what we do, and they're too stupid to learn. All they'll ever see is the boy who killed their families, and to be honest I don't blame them in wanting me dead. I feel I should be punished myself for all the things I have done."

"It wasn't your fault!" Allen protested. "You were being controlled by Zaibach!"

"I still made decisions. I still had free will. I could have said no so many times, but I never did." Dilandau said ruefully, fingering his messy hair. "I think I should leave these people in peace. They deserve to not have a reminder of the war around for all to see. I think I'd cause too much pain if I stayed."

Allen sat quietly in thought for a good while. He knew in his heart that Dilandau was right, but he hated to lose him after they had only just been reunited. He had promised his mother he would always look after Celena, and he intended to keep to that for as long as he lived. Finally, he looked up and said:

"I might have a solution. What do you say to a trip to Fanelia?"

Dilandau looked puzled for a second, then grinned.

"Are we hunting Dragons?"

Allen raised a single eyebrow "You could say that..."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**Author Note: Thanks to the people who left reviews for chapter one - I really appreciate it. If all goes to plan there should be one more fairly long chapter, and then an epilogue. Please review! I like to recieve feedback and constructive criticism!**


End file.
